


it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

by csmithman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Happy Family, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Secret Santa, Team as Family, gleefully ignores season 8, just fluff, just the main team, like season 2ish, like seriously, look I just wanted some good christmas fluff okay, not really important except castleship is still there, pure fluff, set really early
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csmithman/pseuds/csmithman
Summary: Someone told Allura about the Earth tradition of Christmas. Their first December in space, she insists they celebrate. The team is enthused... except for Keith, who doesn't "get" Christmas. What is the point of Christmas in space? He'll find out.





	it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireandAsh_ley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireandAsh_ley/gifts).



> For the happychat secret santa. Ash, I hope you like this! I went kind of meta with this, but I couldn't deny the Christmas spirit. Also, I did my best to keep it ship-free but I'm not sure how well I did since I've never written platonic vld before. Merry Christmas!

“You want to do  _ what _ ?”

 

Keith sat in the lounge with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face. The rest of the team was sprawled out across the various couches looking at Allura, who had a massive smile on her face.

 

“I want to celebrate your Earth holiday of Christmas! I heard Lance and Hunk discussing it and asked them to tell me more. It sounds magical!” Allura  _ looked  _ magical as she said it, a big beaming smile on her face adding to her otherworldly glow.

 

Sadly, the rest of the team looked nearly as excited as Allura. Keith knew they missed Earth, a  _ lot _ . Lance in particular was always talking about his family back home in Cuba. Come to think of it, Keith was pretty sure he’d heard the other boy talking about Christmas, and his family’s traditions, and all the fun they had every year... he must have been talking to Allura.

 

Keith… couldn’t relate.

 

It’s not that he  _ hated  _ Christmas, per se. It just wasn’t his favorite holiday. Somehow, growing up in foster home after foster home didn’t inspire much in the way of holiday traditions. Gifts, if he received any, were hand-me-downs from past foster children. Awkward church services were no fun. He’d missed out on all the fun, happy, festive things normal people did. So to him, Christmas wasn’t a big deal. And he didn’t see why everyone else was so excited about it when it wasn’t going to be the same out here in space.

 

But when everyone else looked so excited… when Allura and Coran looked thrilled to learn more about Earth culture… when Lance, Hunk, and Pidge were practically vibrating in their seats… when even  _ Shiro  _ looked like he couldn’t stop smiling… Well. He wasn’t going to ruin it for the rest of them.

 

He sighed.

 

“Okay, so what are we going to do?”

 

* * *

 

There weren’t really days or months out in space, but shortly after reaching Arus, Pidge had found a way to synchronize their chronos to reflect Earth time and dates. So apparently it was now December, and they were going to cram in as many festive activities as they could.

 

Up first, apparently, was decorating. Living in a massive castle/spaceship gave them a lot of space to work with, but finding anything resembling Earth decorations was harder than they’d anticipated. Christmas trees, it turned out, were hard to come by in outer space.

 

Luckily, Coran was on the case. He asked Lance to describe Christmas trees, then went into their database to find a planet with suitable vegetation. Once they found something that seemed good, they all went down to the planet to chop down a tree together as a “family bonding activity.”

 

Except… Coran did not appear to grasp the concept of a Christmas tree entirely.

 

“These trees are over 25 feet tall. How are we supposed to chop it down and get it back to the castleship, let alone decorate it?” Keith didn’t want to be a downer, but there were some clear logistical issues here.

 

“Not to worry, my boy! We’ll make it work, not a problem. There are plenty of rooms in the castle big enough for this tree! And the lions could easily carry it!” Coran’s enthusiasm was hard to disagree with. But they still had to chop it down first…

 

Suddenly, Hunk lit up with an idea. He ran over to Shiro and whispered to the team leader, who nodded thoughtfully, then smiled.

 

This… couldn’t possibly end well.

 

The next thing Keith- h knew, the Yellow Lion was flying toward the clearing where they were trying to pick the best tree. Over his helmet comm Keith heard Hunk yell “ _ form jaw-blade! _ ” and his eyes widened when he realized what Hunk’s plan was.

 

“Everybody out of the way!”

 

He hustled everyone out of Hunk’s way just as Yellow came rushing into sight, jaw-blade at the ready. Hunk flew in deftly, showing how much his skill had improved since coming to space, and neatly chopped down the closest tree. The tree fell to the ground with a thundering crash, and Yellow grabbed it with his massive claws and headed back up to the ship.

 

“Well, I guess that’s one way to do that…” Keith mumbled, picking himself back up off the ground, reluctantly impressed.

 

* * *

 

Apparently they were supposed to buy presents for everyone. Allura had managed to get them all some gac so they could afford presents -- he was sure the coalition helped, and couldn’t imagine  _ that  _ conversation -- and they were all on the lookout for great gifts anytime they stopped on a planet.

 

Keith was… a little stressed, to be honest. He’d never been great at gift-giving, having never had a chance to practice the skill. Back when he’d still lived with his dad, he’d been a kid. He didn’t have the responsibility to buy presents for his dad.

 

Now Keith felt the weight of the task weighing down on his shoulders. How was he supposed to find a good gift for everyone on the team? He knew he was going to mess it up. He was going to end up buying the worst gifts and everyone was going to think he was pathetic.

 

Wasn’t Christmas supposed to be a  _ fun _ holiday?

 

But much to his surprise, the first gift ended up coming fairly easily. On a trip to the Balmera to check in, he noticed that smaller crystals were being gathered by children. While everyone else was talking to Shay and the other planetary leaders, he wandered over to see what they were doing.

 

They appeared to be making some sort of art out of the tiny crystals. Keith wasn’t sure what the purpose was, if it was purely for ornamentation or if it had some practical value, but he had to admit that they were beautiful to look at.

 

An idea popped into his head…

 

“Hey, what are those for?” He asked the children, who looked up with delight to see a paladin of Voltron.

 

“These are talismans!” One of the Balmeran children chattered happily. “We wear them to honor the Balmera who gives us life!”

 

“Do you think I could buy one?” Keith asked, mind whirring away.

 

The children ended up refusing his money, giving him a talisman out of their gratitude for the heroes of Voltron. He thanked them and pocketed a particularly beautiful shard of crystal, intricately wrapped in delicate metalwork.

 

He had a feeling Hunk would enjoy a memento of his favorite planet.

 

* * *

 

The tree was in one of the large --  _ ballrooms? _ \-- on the castleship, and true to Coran’s word it wasn’t too tall. It was, however, very  _ purple _ .

 

“Close enough!” Lance cheered with delight as he gazed at the tree, a soft smile on his face. “Now, to decorate!”

 

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge had managed to gather together a variety of “decorations” for their strange, giant purple Christmas tree. They worked together to arrange a set of lights on a string, using their armor’s jet-packs to reach the higher parts of the tree. They were laughing and chatting as they did so, and Keith felt a little left out.

 

Luckily, the feeling didn’t get a chance to grab hold. Just then, Shiro wandered in with a box of what looked like metallic  _ hair _ . Shiro looked just as perplexed as Keith felt, but looked up when Keith approached and smiled.

 

“I think this will work as tinsel. Want to help me put it up?”

 

Keith couldn’t say no when his brother’s eyes lit up like that. It was rare, seeing Shiro so carefree. So, without even a sigh, he grabbed a handful and warily approached the tree.

 

Okay, so he’d never decorated a Christmas tree before. At least, not that he could remember. But he could do this. He was a paladin of Voltron. He liberated planets. He fought Galra. He was unstoppable.

 

…

 

WIthin five minutes, more tinsel had ended up on Keith than the tree, and he was pretty badly tangled. When the other paladins returned to the ground, having finally strung up all the lights, they took one look and started laughing.

 

When even Shiro joined in on the laughter, having come to check what was so funny, Keith felt his face heat up. He couldn’t even do this right… He prepared to leave the room and head to the training deck where he knew what he was doing.

 

Before he could get more than a few feet, however, Shiro grabbed his arm.

 

“Hey, Keith, sorry. We shouldn’t have laughed.” Shiro’s eyes were kind even as hints of laughter crept into his voice. “You just looked really out of your element. Why don’t we work together?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance piped in. “Tinsel can be rough! You should see my family’s house every December. Looks like a war zone, metallic strings spread around like confetti. We can defeat it together, though!”

 

As the rest of the team started untangling Keith and, in the process, getting tangled up themselves, something in Keith loosened a little.

 

An hour later, with the tree twinkling from the lights and the tinsel  _ mostly  _ all on the tree, he felt a sense of accomplishment. And looking at his teammates, all smiling and happy, there was a warmth in his chest that was unfamiliar, but in no way unpleasant.

 

* * *

 

Pidge’s present was also easy. Well, the  _ idea  _ came easily, but acquiring the present was another matter.

 

One day after dinner, Keith overheard Pidge talking about her family’s dog. There was so much love in her tone -- unusual for Pidge -- and Keith was touched. He remembered how much Pidge had loved that little robot she captured -- Rover -- and wondered if it wasn’t a stand-in for her furry friend left on Earth.

 

Maybe… maybe he could give that back to her.

 

But he certainly couldn’t do it on his own. Hunk, on the other hand, might be able to help.

 

He pulled the yellow paladin aside as they prepared for a mission on a remote Galra outpost, the perfect opportunity.

 

“Hey Hunk, have you gotten PIdge’s present yet?”

 

Hunk looked briefly panicked.

 

“No, I haven’t!” He blurted out. “I thought she’d be easier but any technology is more gac than I have.”

 

“I might have an idea, that I could use your help with… It could be a gift from both of us?”

 

Hunk looked excited, if a little hesitant, and Keith told him the plan.

 

Two vargas later, Keith smuggled a Galra drone onto the Yellow Lion, careful not to let Pidge catch sight. Hunk gave him a silent thumbs up. Now that Keith had captured the drone, it was up to Hunk to reprogram it.

 

* * *

 

“Keith, please come down to the lounge,” Allura’s voice came over the loudspeaker while Keith was in the training room.

 

He shut off the gladiator, perplexed. He had only just started, dinner having ended very recently, and was vaguely annoyed to be cut off. Normally, he would be concerned; Allura didn’t tend to call them except in emergencies. But this time her voice had sounded -- different. Less anxious and determined, and more… playful? Happy?

 

Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to ignore her. He grabbed his bayard and his water pouch and headed to the lounge, where he found the rest of the team sprawled out across the couches, eating some random space snack Hunk must have made.

 

“Keith! There you are,” Shiro said, alerting everyone to his presence.

 

“What’s… going on?” Keith asked, hesitantly. As he thought, it clearly wasn’t an emergency. But the annoyance he might have felt faded as he noticed how happy, how _relaxed_ everyone looked.

 

“Christmas movies!” Lance yelled, exuberantly. “Well, not quite Christmas movies, since we don’t exactly have Netflix out here. But Coran found some vaguely winter-y Altean films for us to check out. Hunk made space popcorn!”

 

Keith was torn. He wanted to go back to the training room. He didn’t want to pile on a couch and spend forced time bonding with his teammates watching a weird Altean movie that no one could understand, anyway. But everyone looked so happy… and there  _ was  _ space popcorn…

 

Hunk patted the empty seat between him and Shiro. Pidge was curled up in Hunk's lap, with Lance on the other side. Wedged between Hunk, who had the popcorn, and Shiro, who would keep him from feeling overwhelmed, wouldn’t be too bad, he supposed…

 

…

 

Four vargas and two Altean films later, Keith only  _ marginally  _ regretted staying. The films were, notably,  _ awful _ , some sort of weird Grinch-Scrooge mashup followed by something that, although he couldn’t understand a word,  _ strongly  _ resembled a cheesy Hallmark channel film.

 

But the space popcorn was good, Coran and Allura had a good time, and the Earthlings bonded over their shared sense of “what the quiznak did we just watch.”

 

All in all, not the worst way to spend a night.

 

* * *

 

Coran’s gift was acquired on their next trip to Olkarion. Some gac, a very friendly Olkari, and four Olkari cubes later, Keith left feeling accomplished.

 

* * *

 

“Baking Christmas cookies” was, quite possibly, the worst idea Keith had heard since coming to space. And that was saying something, because between Lance and Coran, he'd heard some  _ really  _ bad ideas.

 

But with the pleading faces Lance, Hunk, and Pidge were giving him -- plus the promise of first dibs on any successful attempts -- Keith found himself, against all odds, wandering into the kitchen.

 

“I’m, uh, I’m not much of a cook,” he warned. “I’ll probably just be in the way.”

 

“It’s okay, neither am I,” Pidge reassured him. “Neither is Lance--” an outraged squawk interrupted her “--in space, at least. No one but Hunk seems to understand the mysteries of space cooking. But we have fun anyway!”

 

“Yeah, these two usually aren’t good for much but taste testing,” Hunk agrees. “But it’s more the company that makes it worth them being here. Plus, the feedback on my recipes helps. Especially tonight, since cookies are hard out here. I appreciate the help, Keith!”

 

And so, Keith found himself sitting at the table between Lance and Pidge. They ate so many cookies that Keith was sure he was going to be sick -- and  _ not  _ just because batches 1-3 were, frankly, appalling.

 

No, the feeling in his stomach was different. It was sugar (or space equivalent) overload. It was aching muscles from laughing so hard as Lance, Hunk, and Pidge teased and joked. It was the warm feeling of being accepted, of being happy, of being  _ home _ .

 

Keith thought that might be what the others meant when they talked about Christmas.

 

* * *

 

Time was passing by, the dates on the calendar edging ever closer to Christmas, and Keith was starting to panic. The first few presents had come much easier than he’d thought; he was still feeling mighty proud of his successes with Hunk, Pidge, and Coran.

 

But there were still three more presents to get and time was drawing short.

 

These three presents were important not to mess up. Not that he cared less about Hunk, Pidge, and Coran, of course. He wanted to make sure they enjoyed their presents and knew he cared. But the three people remaining were relationships he was a little more delicate about.

 

Shiro, the brother who had taken him in and raised him, who had left him, but miraculously returned. Allura, the team leader who had a heart of gold beneath her royal exterior, but was slow to trust. Lance, the rival who had somehow, begrudgingly, turned into a friend.

 

Keith wanted to make sure he got these just right. But that was easier said than done.

 

So when Coran suggested a trip to a nearby shopping bazaar (they weren’t allowed to go back to the space mall) with a twinkle in his eye and a comment about “Sander’s ells,” Keith was quick to agree.

 

When they arrived at the bazaar, they all split off to shop alone with furtive glances. Keith was reassured to know he wasn’t the only one who still needed to shop. He reminded himself of this fact -- and the fact that Christmas shopping wasn’t a competition -- as he set off down one long aisle of storefronts, gac burning a hole in his pocket.

 

Keith looked at store after store after store, nothing seeming just right. There was a booth selling clothing made for alien species with far more limbs than anyone on their ship. There was an exotic pets booth with animals that looked like they would tear him to shreds before he could even activate his bayard. There even appeared to be a booth selling --  _ no, never mind, he walked away  _ **_fast_ ** .

 

_ (Were those…tentacles?) _

 

With a burning red face, Keith was so focused on speedwalking away from what he was pretty sure was a brothel that he almost missed it. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something…  _ sparkling _ .

 

He remembered, way back when, Allura saying that she would like something sparkly. He hesitated -- she  _ really  _ didn’t seem the type to go crazy over jewelry -- but then remembered that she wasn’t just the stoic princess figurehead persona she put on for their allies.

 

He remembered that she was a teenage girl, no matter what species she was. And she  _ did  _ wear jewelry. Maybe it was worth a look…

 

Half a varga later, Keith walked out of the jewelry store with a small, wrapped parcel and considerably less gac.

 

One down, two to go, and not a lot of time or money.

 

He continued wandering through the bazaar -- a distant gleeful shout told him that Lance had hit a score -- keeping an open eye and an open mind. Shiro and Lance. All he needed to do was get a present for Shiro and a present for Lance.

 

He could do this.

 

The smell of spices, tangy and sharp, distracted him from a booth selling questionable children’s toys. He followed his nose and found a mysterious looking shop with container upon container stacked up on shelves. The aroma was almost overwhelming -- competing hints of spicy and sweet and tangy and soothing and other things he didn’t even have a word for.

 

It should have been overwhelming. Instead, it reminded him of days gone by, shopping with Shiro, going down to the spice market to select only the  _ finest  _ teas, thank you very much.

 

“Do you have any tea?” Keith blurted out when the shopkeeper -- a strange looking alien with twelve eyes, but, thankfully, no tentacles -- looked his way.

 

It took some explaining -- while  _ tea  _ seemed to be a universal concept, the word wasn’t -- but eventually, Keith was able to check out the shop’s collection of brewable plants. It wasn’t quite Earth tea, but it could be interesting. Keith imagined Shiro, brewing a cup late at night when his thoughts wouldn’t let him rest. He imagined Shiro in the morning, still dazed with sleep, nursing a cup at the breakfast table. He imagined Shiro sharing a pot of tea with him, just like they used to when Keith was still a kid.

 

Keith ended up buying twelve different kinds of tea, enough to last Shiro months, as well as getting a contact line for the shopkeeper in case Shiro liked any of the brews enough to order more.

 

With only a little gac left in his pocket and only a little time before they were to rendezvous back at the ship, Keith was starting to sweat. The castleship hovered above him like an ominous shadow, lurking, waiting,  _ judging _ .

 

He wandered from booth to booth, eyes flitting from random object to random object. Nothing seemed right. He only needed one more gift. It should be easy. But it wasn’t.

 

His mind pulsed out a panicked rhythm.  _ Lance. Lance. Lance. What to buy Lance? _

 

Suddenly, Keith spotted a booth a little apart from the rest. While most of the other booths had sizeable crowds, this one seemed almost bereft of attention, allowing Keith to easily see all it had. Which meant he could see what appeared to be a work of absolute art standing on the table. It was a glass orb, on a delicate, spindly metal base. Inside the orb was water -- but not just plain, boring old water. No, the orb was nearly  _ alive  _ with the water, swirling, rushing, every so often calming down to a gentle flow before crashing away into a tiny surf and starting the cycle anew.

 

Keith may not be best friends with Lance, but even he knew that the boy missed home, missed  _ Cuba _ . Lance talked constantly about Varadero Beach, about growing up more in the water than on land. The Blue Paladin, the guardian of water, the homesick Cuban boy who longed for the surf of his home shores… it was the perfect gift.

 

Feeling the woefully small amount of gac left in his pocket, Keith was worried he would be unable to afford the gift.

 

Time to take a page out of Coran’s book and  _ bargain _ .

 

Keith wandered over to the table, where a wizened old alien peered up at him through big bug eyes.

 

“Business is slow today, huh?” He began, hopefully slyly.

 

“Ah, other stalls may have more customers, but their wares are cheap and easy. It’s the discerning customer who notices something here… but even a discerning customer may not be able to  _ afford  _ what I sell,” the shopkeep shot back.

 

Keith had to be careful. Bargaining was delicate work, and he wasn’t known for his delicacy. But in order to get what he wanted -- in order to secure the perfect Christmas gift -- he had to try.

 

“What do you have that’s so impressive? No offense, but most of this stuff looks like junk,” he said, toeing the line with his tone, sounding (what he hoped was) the perfect blend of disinterested, disapproving, and somehow still polite.

 

“Junk!” The shopkeep exclaimed. “Why, I have the most amazing wares in this quadrant! See here…” Keith tuned him out as the alien began explaining the myriad oddities on the counter. They  _ were  _ somewhat interesting, but he only cared about one thing. He couldn’t let the shopkeep know that, however, so he tried to look disinterestedly interested… It was a work in progress, okay?

 

He learned that the shopkeep was, essentially, an antiquer, who went from planet to planet, quadrant to quadrant, acquiring the detritus of ages long past. He learned that people would pay a pretty penny (or space equivalent) for the wares on the table. Most importantly, he learned that the water orb was actually a weather predictor, but linked to a planet long gone, unable to settle on one type of weather so constantly cycling. He seized on that.

 

“Well if the planet is gone, what good is a weather predictor? No one needs to know, so no one needs that.”

 

“Ah, but it’s a rarity now! A lost civilization, creating beautiful, functional pieces, who wouldn’t want that?”

 

“The function no longer functions,” Keith pointed out. “So you’ve lost that. And beautiful? That’s not the word I would use.”

 

To be fair, the words he would use were more along the lines of stunning, magical,  _ perfect-for-the-boy-who-was-his-rival-but-maybe-now-his-friend _ . But the shopkeep didn’t need to know that.

 

“There are people all over the galaxy who would love this piece!” The shopkeep seemed to be wearing down.

 

“Ah,” Keith said, going for the kill, “but I don’t see any of them here. Do you?”

 

The shopkeep wilted. Keith  _ almost  _ felt bad about it, but when he walked away with the perfect present, he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face.

 

* * *

 

Keith was used to being the first one awake. He liked to get in extra training before the rest of the team was up. So it was a surprise to him to walk into the kitchen for a water pouch and find Hunk already up, cooking up something.

 

“Keith!” Hunk exclaimed, seeming far more chipper than Keith thought was possible for this hour.

 

“What are you doing up?” Keith wondered.

 

“Dude! It’s  _ Christmas morning _ ! Of course I’m up, we’re all up!” Hunk looked far too gleeful for Keith’s brain to handle. Then the rest of his statement caught up.

 

“Wait, everyone? Even Lance?” Everyone knew Lance treasured his beauty sleep.

 

“Yeah man! For once, you’re the last one up!” That was… different. Hunk continued as Keith tried to wrap his head around the strangeness of, apparently, Christmas morning: “I’m just finishing up breakfast, but everyone is in the ballroom with the tree!”

 

“Oh,” Keith said, bemused. “Should I… Do you need help with anything?”

 

“If you felt like carrying a tray of food down, I’d appreciate it a lot. Thanks buddy!”

 

Keith grabbed the tray Hunk indicated and headed down to the ballroom. After the frantic shopping expedition, he’d focused less on the passage of time, and, apparently,  _ somehow _ , missed the fact that it was --  _ Christmas _ . He was glad he’d put his presents under the tree as soon as they were ready, or else he would have felt foolish. He just hoped everyone liked his gifts…

 

And then Keith walked into the ballroom and all worries about gifts left him. Instead, he felt…

 

_ Christmas _ .

 

The tree, all 25 feet of purple, tinsel covered glory, glittered in the twinkling lights and the random bits of junk Pidge and Lance had hung up as “ornaments.” The lights were dimmed, letting the tree take center stage and casting a soft glow over the room.

 

Coran had arranged to have some couches brought into the ballroom so they could all sit around the tree. On those couches were the other paladins and Coran and Allura, sprawled out in various states of disarray and comfort. Pidge and Allura were nestled together, both still in their pajamas, giggling over something or other. Lance, in his Paladin bathrobe and matching slippers, was comparing his footwear to Coran’s slippers, which Keith assumed were the Altean equivalent of bunny slippers. Shiro, on one end of a long couch, was clearly dozing, but someone -- probably Lance -- had placed a cheery red hat on his head.

 

Keith stood in the doorway and looked at the strange group of people in front of him and thought --  _ family _ . This was his family. Not a grave back on Earth, not some mysterious missing mother, not any of the number of foster homes that had taken him in.

 

This. This was his family. And this was Christmas -- his  _ first  _ Christmas with this family.

 

Hunk came through the door behind him with another tray, ladened with more food and drinks.

 

“Hey man, don’t just stand in the door! Come over by the tree!”

 

And with that, everyone noticed Keith. Pidge and Allura waved at him, Pidge yelling something about  _ food, finally _ . Lance called him over to judge which slippers were superior. Shiro shook himself awake and, with a small smile, patted the seat next to him on the couch.

 

Keith shook himself out of his stupor and went to join his family for a magical Christmas morning.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, as most of the paladins napped in front of the tree, Keith reflected on his Christmas.

 

The gifts were a big hit. Pidge had gleefully hugged him and Hunk -- at the same time, somehow, despite her tiny arms -- and began training “Rover Jr.” immediately. Shiro had happily smelled all his teas, planning which ones to brew later this afternoon. Hunk was thrilled with the memento of the Balmera, and Allura had happily put on her new jewelry to display to everyone. Hilariously, everyone seemed to have the same idea about Coran, and about two dozen cubes floated around cheerfully proclaiming “Coran Coran the Gorgeous Man!” in unison. Luckily, Coran thought this was the  _ best  _ thing and had thanked them all.

 

Lance… Lance had opened his present and stared down at the orb for so long that Keith was worried he’d made a grave mistake. But when Lance looked up, with a small but beautifully genuine smile and said a quiet “thanks, Keith,” he knew he had done well.

 

For his part, Keith had enjoyed receiving his presents just as much. Pidge and Hunk had programmed new simulations for him to train with, to keep his skills sharp. Shiro had presented him with a new pair of gloves, having noticed that Keith’s were frayed. Allura gave him a beautiful piece of Altean art, depicting the stars. Coran gave him a large bottle of nunvill -- “for the hair, my boy!” -- along with some interesting snacks, having apparently picked up on Keith’s secret sweet tooth. Lance had found a beautiful knife, smaller than his luxite blade, but still unique and deadly.

 

But while Keith loved the gifts -- loved how much it showed that the team knew him and cared about him and his interests -- what really stuck with him was the experience.

 

Christmas morning, it turned out, could in fact be magical. Christmas could be about Pidge cackling as Hunk blushed over questions about Shay. Christmas could be Shiro and Coran chatting about teas and other beverages like two old men. Christmas could be Allura teasing Lance about not buying her something sparkly as Lance huffed.

 

Christmas could be about family.  _ Should  _ be about family.

 

And finally, in the vacuum of space, lightyears away from his home planet and anyone else who even celebrated the holiday, Keith understood just why everyone loved Christmas so much.


End file.
